Page 19 of Christmas in Mistletoe
Ruby tucked her chin into her neck. The car was silent for a good few moments.
Fran cleared her throat as annoyance and frustration rumbled through her.
Ruby still didn’t say anything.
Had Fran gone too far? She thought about it for a few moments, then decided she hadn’t. Ruby had made assumptions about Fran and her career. She was wrong.
“It’s the reason I tried to sign you. Because I think you’re talented. Because I think your music deserves to be listened to on a much larger scale. I get that you want to help out your family at Christmas, but it’s a big thing to put your career on hold for six weeks every year. Most people wouldn’t do it, and if you want my professional advice, it’s not the smartest career move. Wouldn’t you rather be playing a gig that might get your music out there and open doors, rather than selling Christmas trees? If it’s money you’re worried about, you could help your family out far more when your sales go through the roof.”
Fran wasn’t done. “If you want my professional opinion, it sounds like you’re making excuses to thwart yourself. Your family is a great excuse, and nobody is ever going to call you on it. But I see what you’re doing. You’re scared of trying, but even more scared of being a success.” Fran winced. She hadn’t meant to go into a rant, but Ruby had riled her.
She held up a palm. “I’m sorry, but I don’t like being misrepresented.” She held Ruby’s gaze. “Also, I don’t like wasted talent. It’s part of my job to spot it.”
Silence settled on the car. Seconds ticked by.
Ruby took a deep breath, then sat up in her seat. “Listen, Fran...”
But just then, the bright lights of the AA truck lit them up as it pulled in behind.
Both Fran and Ruby turned into the light, then squinted.
“Saved by the bell.” Fran yanked open her door and got out, then flicked up the hood of her coat against the swirling snow. Only another few hours to survive with Ruby. She wasn’t sure her plan of buttering Ruby up had gone that well. But frankly, when Ruby thought so little of her, did Fran really want to work with her anyway?
* * *
Mike couldn’t fixFran’s car. “More than the exhaust,” was his not-so-helpful assessment. He loaded it onto his recovery truck, with Fran and Ruby riding in his cab up-front.
When they arrived in Mistletoe an hour and a half later, the snow was still falling at a steady rate, and the village was picture-postcard pretty. The journey had been quiet, and luckily the traffic had eased. Fran kept her eyes on the road and her thoughts to herself. She’d avoided looking at Ruby too much. When she had, Ruby’s eyes had been closed. Whether she was asleep or just attempting damage limitation, Fran wasn’t sure.
As they both lived so close, the drop-off point was the same. Mike gave Fran a number to call to arrange a replacement rental while hers was being fixed. “Although,” he said, looking into the sky, “if this keeps up, you might not be able to get it.” The snow swirled around his face, like someone up there was grating the sky.
Fran shook her head. “I don’t really need a car while I’m here. I’ll follow up with the garage to see when they can get it back to me.”
He nodded, then drove off.
Ruby stood as the snow fell, her numerous gift bags at her feet.
“You want a hand in?” Fran might still be annoyed, but she was polite.
Ruby shook her head, grabbing all the handles in her fingers. “I can manage.” She took two steps, then a third.
Fran kept a narrowed eye on Ruby. She didn’t look steady on the snowy ground.
On her fourth step, Ruby wobbled. On the fifth, she lost her footing, and almost in slow motion her right foot slid forward as her body jerked back. She landed with a dull thud on the pavement. Her gift bags scattered across the pavement, presents skidding out. A squashed “Fuuuuck!” escaped Ruby’s mouth.
Fran stood still for a moment, biting down a laugh. Then she clicked into gear, rushing over to her fallen neighbour. She gathered the gifts back into the bags, stood them up, then offered Ruby her hand.
Ruby looked up, grimaced, then took it reluctantly.
When their hands connected, a sudden boom ripped through Fran’s core. It wasn’t subtle. It was seismic, shaking her from the inside out. It almost knocked her sideways. She squeezed her toes together and managed to stay upright. She clung on to Ruby’s hand, willing her racing heart to slow down.
“After three,” Fran said, ignoring the ricochets in her body. They couldn’t be trusted. “One, two, three.”
Ruby held onto Fran tight and heaved herself off the pavement.
When she made it to her full height, they stood facing each other. Ruby a few inches higher, her lips almost at Fran’s eye level.
Fran hadn’t considered Ruby’s lips once in the car. At least, she didn’tthinkshe had. Ruby was attractive, but so were many women Fran came into contact with. She was used to attractive singers in her orbit. It was her world.
